


Something's Up With Jack

by Vampiyaa



Category: The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)
Genre: Christmas, Cold Weather, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Rewrite, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 04:09:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampiyaa/pseuds/Vampiyaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One shot. Jack can't seem to figure out what makes that special feeling rise inside him when he thinks of Christmas... until Sally asks for sanctuary from the cold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something's Up With Jack

Something’s Up With Jack

_There has got to be a logical way to explain this Christmas thing…_

Jack Skellington paced through his observatory, a frustrated frown etched upon his skull, his bony fingers pressed against his mouth. He’d been at it for hours, _ages_ , really, experimenting with all sorts of Christmas do-dads he’d picked up in Christmas Town, which were now spread higgledy-piggledy across the floors and tables. Being a rational and scientific skeleton, Jack couldn’t just sit down and accept the wonderfully warm and tingly feeling that swept through his bones whenever he thought of Christmas— there just _had_ to be a logical explanation as to why he felt like that in the first place. True, whenever Hallowe’en came along Jack’s was excited out of habit… he was the Pumpkin King, for Hell’s sake, it would be inappropriate if he wasn’t the tiniest bit eager for his trademark holiday. But this Christmas thing… this unknown unnamed Christmas feeling… it was different. _Why, though, was it different, what made it different_?

Jack let out an irritated sigh from between his fingers. This was torture, not knowing the answer despite tiring hours of equations, crushing ornaments and chestnuts into fine powders and mixing them with various other chemicals, examining the inside of a Raggedy-Anne doll and especially breaking down the chemical compounds that made up mistletoe, trying to explain what gave people the urge to lock lips underneath it. Did it give off some kind of pheromone that triggered this reaction, or was it merely symbolic? 

Jack’s eye sockets, previously arched in anger, widened as they fell upon the present left for him at his open window, and he couldn’t help but beam at it. He never did see who had left him his lovely little gift, as they had left as quickly as they’d come. The rational part of Jack was telling him that in all probability it was from one of his many fan girls, all of whom made him uncomfortable with their (literal) worshipping of him, and the fact that they only liked him for his sinister atmosphere on Hallowe’en when really they’d see if they got to know him a little that he was quite the gentleman. But when he continued to stare at the basket, still perfectly arranged as it had been when delivered, didn’t seem to hold that kind of atmosphere— it wasn’t one of frantic admiration, but more of friendship and understanding affection. Then who—?

There was a very quiet, very timid-sounding knock that Jack would have missed, had he not been completely silent. Zero stirred from his doggie bed, before his tongue lolled out happily and he barked with loud enthusiasm. It was quite late at night, so who could that be? Jack climbed down the stairs, frowning. It’d better not be the Mayor again, wanting to discuss plans about the next Hallowe’en… 

Zero barked again at his feet as he opened the door, preparing himself to tell the Mayor to leave in the most polite way as possible. There stood his dear friend Sally, the lovely little ragdoll from across town. Her lash-framed eyes were staring hard at the ground, and from the light of the streetlamps and the moon he was horrified to see her usually milk-white skin was tinged pale blue, and was trembling. 

“Sally!” Jack gasped out, suddenly wishing he looked a little better groomed. He’d spent more time concentrating on his Christmas experiments he’d forgotten to pay attention to his appearance— he was the Pumpkin King, after all. 

“I’m s-s-sorry Jack… but… it… I… it’s colder th-than I th-though it’d b-be,” she breathed, her voice cracking and the cold biting into each one of her attempts at speech. She could barely move her jaw, it seemed. 

“Oh, my poor friend, come in!” Jack fretted, his gentlemanly/friendly obligations kicking in immediately, and he ushered her into the warmth of his home and shut the door quickly. “What were you doing out there?” 

It sounded a bit like he was scolding her; maybe he was a little, he decided, after all he was worried. She wasn’t undead, so she shouldn’t be that colour of blue! 

Her large eyes travelled around the floor as if making patterns in the metal. “I-I d-didn’t… I m-mean…” Sally fell silent, giving up on her attempt to speak. Her face felt numb and heavy, as though she had on a weighty mask and was trying to speak through it. 

Jack immediately felt bad for chiding her, and in a friendly manner he slid one skeletal arm around her stitched shoulders and helped her up the stairs, concentrating only on different ways he could warm her. Hot tea, lots of blankets, a seat by the fire… maybe a bath… it shocked him to the depths of his bones that she — or _anyone_ , for that matter — could be so cold. Having his arm round her felt as though he were embracing a block of ice; she was colder than Christmas Town had been, for Hell’s sake! Jack suddenly remembered seeing people snuggled up together by the fire sharing a blanket. Of course, that would be splendid! He’d sit her down on that nice cushy couch he had close to the fireplace, and he’d fetch a blanket big enough for the two of them, and that’d warm her up plenty! Glancing down at Sally briefly, who was having trouble climbing the stairs with her already numb rag doll limbs, he couldn’t help but blush a little at the though of snuggling up with her. But, he assured himself, she was cold, and friends did that all the time in Christmas Town… so why did the thought make little Christmas fires light in his cheekbones? It was silly, really…

“Come here,” he half-ushered half-ordered when they reached the first level, gesturing towards the couch nearest to the roaring fire in the grate. She obeyed without question and sat, looking almost ashamed of herself, and Jack immediately felt horrified— had his scolding made her feel bad? 

As the feel of the warmth coming from the grate washed over her Sally’s shivering seemed to intensify. Jack frowned for a brief moment before he stopped abruptly, hoping he didn’t seem like he was scolding her again, and with a gentle voice he said, “I’ll be right back with a blanket, Sally.” 

He practically sprinted up the stairs and halted at a cupboard to his right, which he hurled open. Pushing aside a collection of pinstriped suits and a corpse Jack plucked the biggest blanket he could find from the shelf and nearly threw himself back down the stairs to where his friend was. 

“Here, Sally,” smiled Jack, unfolding the blanket and sliding one end around her, making sure she was completely covered before sitting down next to her and covering himself with the blanket too. 

At first he missed Sally’s little look of shock, too caught up in simply enjoying sitting with his dear friend next to him, cuddled up in the same blanket. That must be why they did it in Christmas Town, Jack decided, because of all the cuddly warmth and contentment it created. A sweet calmness settled over Jack like a heavy mist, a feeling he hadn’t really felt in a while. He’d been so caught up first in Hallowe’en, then in his own misery, then in his excitement over his discovery of Christmas and finally his determination to figure out the answers to Christmas… he hadn’t really sat still and relaxed for quite a while, and it felt good. 

“A-are you cold too, Jack?” Sally whispered extremely faintly, causing Jack to drift back to mindfulness. 

“A little,” Jack confessed. “But that’s not why I have the blanket on too— in Christmas Town people share blankets to warm each other up! Isn’t it lovely?” he added with a content sigh, thinking how much he adored Christmas and its slightly odd ways.

“It certainly is, Jack…” Sally murmured, a smile playing at her stitched mouth as her large eyes drifted downward towards the floor. Jack actually stared at them for a bit— he’d always liked her eyes. They were big and curious, a lovely shade of midnight black and framed with thick lashes. The firelight reflected off of them, making them twinkle a little, and Jack found himself mesmerised. She glanced up only to find Jack staring a little open-mouthed at her, prompting them both to turn away in opposite directions. Jack felt his cheekbones heat up again— what was this odd feeling in his chest, he wondered? It was like a mixture of fluttery nervousness and an odd urge to do… something. He wasn’t sure what yet. 

“Um… Jack?” Sally said quietly. 

“Y-yes Sally?” Jack stammered. Why was he stammering? Maybe he _was_ cold…

“What else do… people in Christmas Town do in blankets together?” 

Jack nearly choked on his own breath and tried hard not to gape at her, but instead covered half of his now beet-red face with one skeletal hand. Of course, she had no idea what she’d just… how it implied that… after all she was new to the world and didn’t know about… 

“Um.” Jack suddenly found himself very warm and wished he could hide his face in the blanket. “W-w-well Sally… um, people in Ch-Christmas Town… and other places too… they do… a lot of things… in blankets,” he finished rather earnestly, hoping she wouldn’t pry. 

But while curiosity killed the cat and all, and that was fantastic, it wasn’t so much at the moment as Sally was curious Sally. “Like what?” 

“Hm.” He wondered what to tell her. “Well sometimes they sleep,” he said lamely, prompting a giggle from her. Fortified, Jack continued, “And sometimes they just read books. A-a-and sometimes,” he stammered, “th-they… well, they snuggle.” If his face got any redder it would be on fire, he decided furiously. 

Sally actually frowned at that. “What does that mean?” 

Oh boy. “W-w-well Sally, it’s l-like… hugging. Only different, because you’re at a different angle, a-and it lasts longer.” Jack thought he was being pretty obvious, trying not to explain just how cuddly he’d seen people get, complete with loving smiles and gentle touches… and _that_. 

Sally didn’t seem to think so. “I don’t understand, Jack.” 

“Like this, my Sally.” 

He wasn’t entirely sure what came over him, but all of a sudden as though it were completely natural his arm slipped underneath the blanket around Sally’s shoulders and pulled her quickly but gently into his chest. She gasped, in shock or alarm, he wasn’t sure which yet, but didn’t pull away. Her head was resting between the crook of his neck and his shoulder blade, as though that spot was made for her. Instinctively Sally’s arms curled around Jack’s waist and she snuggled into him deeper, smiling a bit. She hadn’t even realised yet (though he had, and was bright red for it) that he’d accidentally called her ‘his’ Sally. 

This was splendid, he realised with a secret smile. No wonder people in Christmas Town snuggled like this! It was warm and cozy, and made an odd, bubbly feeling rise up in his chest that was definitely something he hadn’t felt before, but didn’t particularly bother him. Not like the fact that his face was almost buried in the thicket of her satin-like hair, for Jack inexplicably felt the strongest urge to reach up with his free hand and run his fingers through it, because it would definitely be so wonderfully soft. Her fabric skin wasn’t so cold as had it been, Jack noticed; it was only fairly cool to the touch now.

“It isn’t hard to see… why people in Christmas Town, um, snuggle,” Sally half-sighed. “It’s lovely.” 

“Indeed, my Sally,” Jack replied. Ack, he did it again! Sally didn’t seem to mind, though, if anything it made her smile widen. Now why in Hallowe’en town would it do that…?

“What else do people do in Christmas Town?” Sally asked, her voice coming out slightly breathless. “I-in blankets?”

_Oh, for Hell’s sake_. Usually Jack positively adored Sally’s curiosity, but now it was making his face nearly catch fire and he wished she would stop. Now he had to tell her about… _that_. Well, he internally sighed, somebody had to do it — Jack couldn’t imagine elderly, stubborn and serious Dr. Finklestein having that kind of ‘talk’ with her — but why in the name of Hallowe’en Town did it have to be _him_?

“Uh… heh…” Jack chuckled nervously and then swallowed. “S-sometimes, when friends are s-s-snuggling… in blankets… o-or even when they’re not in blankets… they… kiss.” Could his face have gotten any redder? 

Naturally, as Jack had hoped she wouldn’t do, Sally sat up straight and frowned in confusion again. “What’s that?” 

Oh God. He couldn’t… he _wouldn’t_ demonstrate _that_ to her! It was wicked, improper, naughty, unthinkable, reprehensible, wrong, wrong, _wrong_! And yet… he couldn’t help but stare down at her blood-red stitched lips through half-lidded sockets, wondering what it would feel like. Why was it so wrong, really? Dear friends did it in Christmas Town, so why not in Hallowe’en Town? Still the thought made him tremble with embarrassment. He sincerely hoped Zero wasn’t looking. 

“Th-that’s… sort of hard t-to explain, Sally…” he stammered, chickening out at the last second. Why was it so utterly unthinkable and yet unbelievably tempting to just lean down slowly, like the others did in Christmas Town, and just touch his mouth to Sally’s…? 

“Can you demonstrate then?” asked Sally innocently, and Jack just had to groan internally with half-despair half-longing… why did she have to be so uneducated, so terribly ignorant…? 

Okay. He could do this. Nothing to it. And yet having her sit there, comfortably twined around him as though she were part of his suit, and stare up at him expectantly with those _positively lovely black-as-a-night-sky eyes_ , made him all the more nervous. 

He flushed again and covered his mouth with one hand. “Okay. B-b-but you have to c-close your eyes.” 

As Sally nodded seriously, Jack watched her lashes seem to stroke the air as they fluttered shut. Hm, what would those feeling like trailing down his cheek… or his neck… or his chest…? _Ah damn it, Jack_ , he scolded himself soundly in his mind, _don’t think about your friend so inappropriately_ … Swallowing hard again, Jack stared at her lips for a second longer, before squeezing his eye sockets shut tightly just in case Sally opened her eyes and he lost himself in them— 

He felt Sally stiffen in shock the moment his lips pressed against her own, but she didn’t pull away or open her eyes, for which Jack was eternally grateful. And then, neither of them quite understanding why but knowing somehow that it should be done, Jack’s hands travelled, one wrapped around her waist and the other found the courage to slide into her hair. His last coherent thought was that he was right, her hair _was_ unbelievably soft. 

Despite Sally’s ignorance about the more personal aspects of existence her uncertainty faded away, and both of them finally relaxing prompted one of them (neither knew which one exactly) to gently coax the other’s lips apart, and it felt unbelievably natural to the two of them despite it being their first time. Really, it was no wonder people in Christmas Town did what they did, for all of it was just so splendidly lovely, so lovingly splendid, so… Sally too ceased to think properly and she deepened the kiss by weaving her heavily stitched and no longer pale blue arm around his thin neck. She could feel Jack fingers playing through her hair, and it made her tremble in a strange way, a way like what she felt for Jack while just looking at him, but increased tenfold. 

Jack, meanwhile, was in Hallowe’en Heaven… or the good kind of Hell… he wasn’t sure which and didn’t really care, just as long as _this_ continued. Whatever this immensely pleasurable feeling in his chest was, he never wanted it to leave and couldn’t really imagine existence without it anymore. All he knew at this point was that kissing Sally, which the thought of previously made him flush with embarrassment, made that unnamed feeling practically explode inside him, made him want to do odd things like fist his hands in her hair and pull her closer and kiss her harder, made him just want _more, more, more_. As a matter of fact, the feeling was rather like an amplified version of what he felt for Christmas… 

With the sudden realisation Jack suddenly pulled away from her, panting heavily and staring at her with eye sockets wide with shock. The fact that she suddenly looked nervous, her lips were glistening and she was blushing more and more by the second didn’t register with him; all he knew was that whatever he felt for Sally was identical to whatever he felt about Christmas. 

“By God, Sally, that’s it!” he gasped happily, sweeping her into an unabashed tight hug. “Quickly, help me with something.”

“O-okay Jack,” she said nervously, confused at his sudden change in attitude. 

“What is that gosh-darned word again?” Jack fumed into her hair. “Remind me— I really, really like Christmas. _Really_ like Christmas. What’s that word that means really like?”

Sally thought for a moment. “Um… you love Christmas?” 

“ _That’s the answer_!” he beamed, feeling unbelievably excited. “Sally, you’re a genius!” 

She blushed again and mumbled, “B-but Jack… what did I do…?” 

He should have asked Sally for help all along, he mused happily, for she had figured out the answer to that Christmas thing, why he felt strange whenever he thought about it, it was because he _loved_ Christmas! _Love_ was the answer! But then that meant—

Oh dear. He pulled away from Sally again and stared at her once again with a slightly open mouth. That meant that he… loved… 

“Oh,” Jack said lamely at the realisation, flushing a little. No wonder he’d always adored her lovely eyes… and wanted to touch her hair… and liked cuddling with her… and lost his mind when kissing her… 

“What’s the matter, Jack?” she asked quietly, hoping it wasn’t her fault that he suddenly looked so shocked. Did she look strange? 

Truthfully Jack had sort of gotten lost in his own horrified thoughts. He _loved_ Sally! But she was his friend! Could they still be friends even if he loved her? What if… what if she was frightened of his love for her? What if she didn’t love him back? However was he going to tell her? 

He swallowed hard and forced the words out before he could chicken out again, “I love—” His voice got stuck in his throat. 

Sally furrowed her brow. “Christmas. R-right?” 

“No, no that’s not right,” Jack said almost harshly. “Oh wait, yes, that is right… heh…” He probably sounded like a fool. “But… well, it’s just… Sally, do you know how you helped me solve the Christmas question?” 

She shook her head, hoping he was going to tell just why she was such a ‘genius’ because honestly, she didn’t feel like one. Not one bit. 

“W-well, because… I realised what I feel for Christmas is…” Why, _why did his face have to blush so much_?! “… is the s-same as… uh… well, what I feel about you.” Jack allowed himself to be momentarily proud: he’d said it! 

Apart from looking horrified, Sally actually frowned confusedly a third time. “But Jack… that would mean that—” Her voice also seemed to get caught in her throat at the realisation. “Oh my,” she whispered. 

Before she could say anything further Jack hurriedly said, feeling terrified, “I understand that in all likelihood you don’t feel the same way, not even one bit, because I’m just an old Pumpkin King, so in that case I really, _really_ want us to stay dearest friends and nothing should change because—”

“But I do l-love you, Jack,” Sally interrupted, her alabaster cheeks tingeing pink in the firelight. 

They simply sat there in stunned silence as Jack stared off into the distance, processing what had just happened. He couldn’t possibly have heard right… 

“Wh-what?” Jack spluttered. 

He braced himself for the impending moment where she would turn to him, looking confused, and say, “I didn’t say anything, Jack.” 

Instead, a lovely blush crept over her cheeks and her lips parted so she could stammer, “I-I… l-l-love you, Jack…” 

He allowed himself another second or two of stunned silence, staring at her — his eye sockets couldn’t possibly getting any wider — before his hands found their way back into her hair and he pulled her into him so that he could reach those shimmering lips that had said… _something_ , something that made excitement and relief explode in his bones, made him want to pick her up and twirl her and at the same time weep at the utter wonderfulness of it all… 

_She said she loves you too, don’t be stupid_ , chided his innermost rational self, but the Jack that now had a more than willing Sally pinned to the couch told him very firmly (and quite rudely) to stuff it and go away, for now her hands, her unbelievably tiny and baby-soft hands, were tentatively stroking the base of his skull and for the love of a lot of bad words, it felt _so good_. What was she doing, he wondered as he nipped at her lips, that made him literally shudder as though he had been the one blue-tinged and in need of a blanket? Why, he thought confusedly as he ran his bony fingers through her silk hair, did her lips taste so good, like raspberries picked by Hallowe’en moonlight or the most delicious sugar? 

And why… why was he _on top of her_? He froze, lips still pressing against hers but no longer moving with the fervour it had moments ago. He’d only just realised… Holy Hallowe’en he’d been straddling her. Did people do that in Christmas Town? He wondered it for a brief second before he lost himself in her again, which was ever so easy to do. This was new, this was someplace Jack had never ventured, and it certainly beat anything Christmas could have given him. Unless, of course, he had Sally by a roaring Christmas Eve fire, snuggled up in a blanket embroidered with little baubles while a glimmering Christmas tree sat in the corner and mistletoe hung above their heads… 

“I love you…” they both sighed out in sync, before drawing back and staring at the other in shock. “You—” they tried again, before the two of them laughed.

“Go ahead, my Sally,” Jack said with an ever-so-excited grin, still straddling her. “I adore hearing your words.”

She blushed before biting her lip, her full, cherry-red, utterly _delicious lip_ … _Damn it, Jack, get a hold of yourself!_ Jack scolded himself firmly. “I just… you really l-love me?” she ventured tentatively, her face falling a little.

What? Did she expect him to say no? 

“I should be asking _you_ that question.” Jack frowned.

She looked away from him to instead stare into the fire. “W-well… it’s just that I’m just an ignorant little rag doll, and you’re the Pumpkin King, and—” her words were rushed as if she was forcing them out before she chickened out. 

“Sally, I love you. A lot,” he interrupted, more firmly than he intended to. “A whole lot,” Jack felt the need to add. 

She bit her lip again in embarrassment, making Jack shiver. He wished she’d stop; it made him want to pounce on her. 

“Um, Jack?” she said quietly. 

“Hmm?” he replied idly, still lost in his thoughts about biting her lip. 

“C-could you… kiss me again?” Sally asked, blushing from head to toe. 

Jack smiled. “Again and again, Sally, if you’ll let me.” And he dove down and kissed her again. Oh, he was _definitely_ going to get her under some mistletoe in the future…

**Author's Note:**

> All my fics can be found on fanfiction.net.   
> Jally fluff :) I just fixed a HUGE error I didn't notice before (one of the tags said 'Jack Harkness' instead of 'Jack Skellington'.... somehow, as brilliant as Harkness is, I don't think he fits in this fandom XD)


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